


Myosotis

by 1001TalesFicFest, baekdsooshi



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Musical, Alternate Universe - New York, Broadway, M/M, sulay - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-01 07:18:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13289829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1001TalesFicFest/pseuds/1001TalesFicFest, https://archiveofourown.org/users/baekdsooshi/pseuds/baekdsooshi
Summary: Tale #: 111After being rejected countless times, Junmyeon wanted nothing to do with musicals anymore. But when he hears the music of street busker Yixing, he thinks maybe he's not yet ready to give up his dream after all.This story has been cross-posted by the author on AFF on January 25, 2018: https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1319681*Minor edits have been added on the AFF version.





	Myosotis

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first SuLay baby and I hope it makes you smile! I also kind of ran away with this and wrote way past my word count goal, so yay? I guess I loved sharing how I see and feel about Junmyeon and Yixing with anyone who reads this. So I wish you won’t regret clicking and spending your time on this^^

 

“Thank you!”

Junmyeon stopped singing, being cut abruptly by one of the casting people sitting at the center of the theatre. He opened his eyes, gaze slowly moving from the high ceiling towards the spectators.

It was getting harder to breathe. He can feel his heart beating almost loud enough to block the words he’s heard countless times. Almost.

“We’ll be in touch.”

The lights above him were shut off, pushing him to move his legs backstage. In twenty-six years, Junmyeon hasn’t had his moment in the spotlight. At least not when it counted.

He was about to get his bag from the chair he sat on before his turn on stage when he felt a soft squeeze on his shoulder. Junmyeon was met with kind eyes. “Your voice was beautiful.”

The older man gave a dejected nod, but he returned the smile. “Thank you.”

“Baekhyun Byun!” Both men turned towards the stage.

Junmyeon motioned for the other man to go, wishing him well. “Break a leg out there.”

And boy did he do so. Junmyeon watched from the sidelines as Baekhyun filled the room with colors and emotions, clearly seeing the casting people enamored with the man on stage. It was a stark contrast to his audition where a few people were taking notes instead of focusing on his voice.

He left before he could hear them say Baekhyun got the part.

 

*

 

There wasn’t any time for self-pity. Instead of finding comfort in a stranger’s bed or a couple of bottles like others would, Junmyeon went back to his apartment with more newspapers and audition flyers in his arms.

He flipped through all of them, scanning for his next career move, as he ate a meager sandwich he got from the deli near his building.

The red ink from his marker almost ran out from use, circling roles he really wanted, parts he can play for experience, and part-time jobs he can do to pay the bills. Being the younger son, his parents and older brother have supported his dream and decision to move to New York for Broadway, even with their limited incomes combined.

But after six years of having no real breakthroughs yet to show his family, of having broken so many limbs from practicing and working to keep his small apartment in the city, and the guilt of breaking his mother’s heart from his struggles, Junmyeon refused to accept any more financial help from them. Their words, cheers, and faith are more than enough to keep him going.

He may be in low spirits, but Junmyeon got up from his worn out couch to practice his footwork. The next audition he’s eyeing is just a few weeks away.

Hopefully by then his heart would be okay.

 

*

  

Some people really have no sense of decency.

“His face is incredible, decent voice, but he has very little experience. And for his age, good visuals can only get him so far.” Voices from the other side of the door travelled through the walls. It’s like they’re not even trying to whisper.

The few people in the room with him paid no mind, probably used to it too. But the guy sitting next to him huffed.

Junmyeon peered at him, shrugging. “They’re kinda right.”

The man still shook his head, arms crossed and an offended look on his face. “They’re not. I think you did so well, man. And I don’t know what the heck they’re talking about because you're not just one attractive dude. You’ve got the looks _and_ you’re crazy talented.”

A genuine chuckle escaped Junmyeon. That hasn’t happened during auditions in a very long time. He offered his hand. “Thank you…”

“Jongdae.”

They shake hands, and it was nice feeling warmth in the cold room.

Before they can continue talking, one of the people from behind the door walked out with a list in her hand. The room went silent as they watched her pin the paper on the wall’s corkboard. Aspiring stars kindly waited for her to leave the area before scrambling to find their name.

All except Junmyeon.

He calmly walked to where Jongdae was standing, trying to look over the names. But he already knew he would find Jongdae’s and not his own.

It was a good thing that the room is so noisy, blocking the sound of his heart shattering.

But before it could completely break, Jongdae nudged him gently. “Don’t give up.”

Junmyeon couldn’t look him in the eye, but the other man wasn’t having it. “We’ve been to the same auditions a couple of times. I meant what I said earlier.”

He hid the sigh that was about to leave him and offered Jongdae a nod. “Don’t worry about me, man. Congratulations to you.”

The hug was surprising but not unwanted. It’s also keeping Junmyeon from falling to his knees. He patted the guy on the back with a genuine smile this time. “Break a leg, Benny.”

They parted ways out on the sidewalk, Jongdae heading back to Brooklyn and Junmyeon towards his apartment a couple of blocks away.

But instead of stopping in front of his building, or even to get a sandwich to calm his stomach, he walked further on. The want to disappear was taking over him and he followed that desire towards the crowded part of Times Square.

High above him, the lights and screens for countless brands, celebrities, movies, and ongoing musicals blinked on. The sea of people continued to pass by and he wondered how long he has stood there, imagining if he’ll ever see one screen, even the smallest one, show a production he is a part of.

A phone call or email was probably waiting for him back home, knowing his parents. But Junmyeon really didn’t want to give them more heartache again, so he turned his back to the busy streets and headed for the more relaxing call of Central Park.

He filled his lungs with fresh air, wanting to sing his sorrows away. But at the thought of hearing his own voice, the voice which no one seemed to want to hear, he pursed his lips instead.

Doubt and fear filled the silence he brought on himself. Not even the sound of happy families, barking pets, and the leaves swaying broke his thoughts.

Should he really just go back home to Seoul? His family is waiting for him, ready to help him get back on his feet. A job with his brother would be easy enough to get or maybe Junmyeon can follow the education path that his parents have taken.

Maybe he could be a drama teacher somewhere. As the clichéd saying goes; if you can’t do, then teach. Is that what his life is now? A cliché?

Junmyeon shook his head, trying to rid of the thought. Not only did he insult himself, he just insulted his parents who have inspired so many youths, including their own children. He whispered a soft apology with his mom and dad in mind.

But it still doesn’t change the fact that he wanted to quit. Sweat, tears, broken bones, lost sleep, and missed family events were just a few of the things he has given for his dream. And where is he now?

It honestly felt like he’s moved backwards and now has no idea where to go from here.

And just like that, the universe shows its humorous side to Junmyeon as he found himself standing at a forked path of the park. Should he go left or right? At first glance, it really didn’t matter at all.

But as hurt and lost as he was, the young man forgets how whatever being or force was at play, every moment that happens will lead you to where you need to be.

Junmyeon still felt like he wanted to blend in, to just forget his wish of being in the spotlight for the longest time, so he went to where more locals seemed to go. The chill of spring forced his hands inside his pockets, and he looked to his feet, hoping they’d take him somewhere he can feel better.

Lost in his own thoughts still, he didn’t notice the crowd at one corner of the park and bumped into someone. Junmyeon looked up and apologized to the woman, bowing low. She waved him off, thinking nothing of it and continued to watch the street busker charming everyone in the vicinity with his guitar.

Junmyeon straightened up and tried to see past the people encircling the performer, some swaying, a few recording him on their phones, and many happily throwing money into the man’s open guitar case.

But none of them were in Junmyeon’s focus as he was inspired by the artist’s pure passion, happily singing what seemed to be his own song.

 _“Call me crazy, I’ll find the love in a crowd and spot you in_ _one glance.”_

And Junmyeon can’t help but smile. Someone like this guy was born to stand out indeed. Without even realizing it, his feet was tapping along to the beat. Not a single bad thought was on his mind, new footwork and choreography starting to form instead.

He imagined the crowd parting, making way for him to join the man with the guitar as he dances along to the sweet music and melody, smiling as bright as the guy next to him.

In reality, he did get closer to the man, but only to pull out a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet. Eating ramyeon for a couple of days doesn’t sound so bad anyway. He went back into the crowd and waited for the busker to finish his performance before he started heading home.

Almost reaching the forked path again, thinking how he could split one pack of ramyeon for two meals, Junmyeon stopped walking when he heard a shout that seemed to be meant for him. Cautiously, the man peeked behind, ready to make a run for it. This is still New York after all. He can’t afford for his last five dollars today to get mugged.

To his surprise, it was the street busker he was watching earlier, somehow managing to run while carrying a heavy guitar case on his shoulder. “Hey!” Breathless and with pink cheeks, the busker waved to the other man, catching up as fast as the instrument’s weight allowed him.

Junmyeon smiled warily. “Yes?” He patiently waited for a reply, letting the man breathe as he leaned on his guitar.

The busker fished through his pockets before showing his hand to Junmyeon. “I think you dropped this note by mistake. People usually just give me five dollars at most.”

The other blinked at the ridiculousness of the situation. Or maybe it’s the guy. Who returns money given for free? Junmyeon chuckled awkwardly. “Uh. No. I meant to do that.” When the busker just stared at him, he smiled gently, scratching his cheek out of habit. “I think you deserve it.”

“Really?”

The man sounded so happy, grateful and… pure? Paired with those wide eyes and beaming with a dimple, Junmyeon almost snorts at the expression. “Yeah.”

The busker bit his lip, seemingly thinking something over. “Okay, but. You have to let me repay you somehow. Wanna grab a bite to eat? Split the twenty?”

A protest was about to leave Junmyeon’s lips, wanting to help a fellow struggling artist, but his stomach had other ideas, growling at the thought of food. If the busker heard it, he was polite enough to ignore it. “So… is that a yes?”

Junmyeon couldn’t handle the hopeful look on the man’s face. “But. We just met.”

If he thought this whole situation was ridiculous, hearing the man’s boisterous laugh takes the cake. Hmm. Cake. He felt his stomach protesting again.

When the busker settled down to a chuckle, he offered a hand. “Yixing.”

“Junmyeon.”

After shaking hands, Yixing hooked the guitar back on his shoulder. “Come on. I know a place where we can stretch this twenty until our stomachs burst.” When he saw Junmyeon staying still, he tilted his head to the side. “I’ll take you to Chinatown a few blocks from here. I won’t hurt you or anything.”

Still no movement.

Yixing laughed again. “I swear on my precious grandma’s life, we’re just going to eat.”

He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. But against all instincts, Junmyeon followed.

 

*

 

“Aunty!”

“Xiao Xing!” An elderly woman opened her arms wide, waiting for Yixing’s hug. The heat from the kitchen and the dinner crowd made the restaurant stuffy enough as it is, but no one can resist this baobao.

When they pull apart, Yixing gestured to Junmyeon. “I’m trying to treat my generous new friend here. And I promised him the best dim sum in all of New York.”

“Ai, you charming boy. Come in, come in. I’ll go get your table ready.” She led them towards the back where it’s a little quieter. Once seated, she beamed at the two handsome men while serving tea. “I’ll get Luhan to serve you in a minute. Eat well, okay?”

Yixing gently took the hot teapot from her, worrying it was too heavy. “Thank you, aunty. We will.”

Junmyeon looked around the restaurant, feeling a wave of homesickness. It’s not exactly the same as Seoul of course, but he enjoyed the warmth and the surrounding noise.

“Oi, Xing-ah! Haven’t seen you in a while.”

Yixing stood up to hug the tall waiter. Junmyeon thought hugging might be the guy's thing apart from music. “I know. Sorry about that. I got a couple of new kids to teach guitar and piano, but a few of them live uptown. But it gives me a chance to play in other parks too, so it’s all good.”

Luhan nodded until he noticed a new face in the crowd. “Who’s your friend?”

“Junmyeon. Met him at the park today.” He sat back down and took a sip of his tea, relaxing.

Across the table, Junmyeon noted how this Luhan person didn’t find it odd that Yixing has brought along a stranger. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Their eyes met and Yixing removed the cup from his face, smiling at Junmyeon.

They asked for a sinful amount of food from the menu, with Yixing being nice enough to describe the items that Junmyeon found interesting. But he felt a bit guilty that this new guy was spending money he earned for the day on him, even if the twenty did come from his own pocket. “Are you sure that twenty is enough for what we ordered plus tips?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Yixing sets down the empty cup. “I got you.”

The busker can probably tell how Junmyeon’s not convinced, so he tried again. “Tell you what. Next time I see you, let’s go to Koreatown on West 32nd for some of those sticky spicy rice thingies and call it even.”

“Ddeokbokki?” Junmyeon laughed, shaking his head. He hasn’t had one in so long. “How about tonight? Maybe you’d like dessert after dinner?” Where was this coming from? He literally has five dollars in his wallet and will not get paid from one of his part-time jobs until tomorrow. Junmyeon chalked it up to not wanting to owe anyone.

So when Yixing mentioned he’s not really into sweets, Junmyeon held the breath of relief he wanted to let out. He’s not sure if they’ll ever see each other again, but if they do then ddeokbokki it is.

As they waited for the food, the busker wasted no time to ask questions. “How long have you lived at The Big Apple?”

Ah, of course. The question Junmyeon isn’t fond of answering. “Close to six years.”

Yixing whistled. “Wow. And I thought my four years were long.”

Junmyeon chuckled in agreement. “Tell me about it.” He nodded to the man’s guitar propped on the wall. “Did you come here to study music in Julliard or something?”

“I wish.” Yixing combed a hand through his hair. “To be honest I can’t even read notes on music sheets.” With a glance to his guitar and a sigh on his lips, Yixing leaned back on his seat. “I’m just another country boy dreaming of his turn on the stage. Very original.”

Something twisted in Junmyeon’s stomach. Yes he was hungry, but this time it was a comforting feeling of meeting a kindred spirit. “Well, I’m someone dreaming of the stage too. But from the city.”

Yixing hummed, eyes back on him. “I know.”

“What? How?”

Before the other panics, Yixing held up his hands, eyes wide. “I can just tell from your shoes.”

“My shoes?” Junmyeon naturally looked to his feet.

“Yeah,” Yixing pointed to his own pair. “I can tell you practice dancing a lot, like me. Either that or you just really love to walk around the city.”

Junmyeon eyed the busker’s feet, going quiet. “So you want to be on Broadway too?”

When the man across the table shook his head no, Junmyeon felt some weight lift from his chest. “I don’t have any greed for musicals. I’m here for a record deal.”

“Why aren’t you in L.A. then?”

Their talk was interrupted by Luhan bringing over a huge platter filled with their orders and a friendly “Enjoy your meal!” before leaving.

The two men seemed to be waiting for the other to start eating. But knowing it might take a while, Yixing moved to serve Junmyeon a few pieces of dumplings on his plate before getting some for himself. “I would love to be in L.A. That’s the goal.”

“But…?” He took a bite of the xiao long bao, all thoughts leaving him at the delicious burst in his mouth.

Yixing knowingly smiled behind his spoon. “But my grandfather and I could only save enough for a ticket to New York at the time. Plus my grandma knows a few people in the city so I thought I’d try my luck here first, see where it takes me.”

“And your parents?” It really is a wonder that Junmyeon can still talk when all he wanted was to clean all the plates in front of him.

“Not really sure where they are now. They chose their own creative pursuits so I never really knew them.”

Junmyeon stopped mid-bite. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Yixing smiled easily. “I love my grandparents, and they did their best so I didn’t feel like I missed out on anything.” He patted the guitar beside him. “And I’ll work hard to make them proud.”

They only met today, Junmyeon knew that. But something tells him that Yixing’s grandparents have always been proud of him. Still, they did just meet today so it might not mean much coming from him. He decided to keep it to himself for now.

“What about you? You mentioned Broadway. That’s exciting!”

His face must have fallen because Yixing looked concerned.

“I take it that it hasn’t been easy for you too?”

It's hard to admit but that is a total understatement. Junmyeon knows his dream isn’t the easiest to make happen, he knows he needs to work on himself a lot. But to wait this long and to feel like he’s not improving at all makes him want to pack up and go home. For goodness sake, he got another rejection and was entertaining the thought of quitting just a few hours ago. “You can say that.”

Yixing nodded. “I know you might’ve heard this a thousand times already, but keep at it. Anyone who practices more than I do will have their big break soon enough. And hey.”

Junmyeon looked up from his plate.

“If you ever need some new skills to get more roles, I can help with that.” Yixing counted with his fingers. “I can teach you basic Mandarin, how to play a couple of instruments, some new dance moves, and if you want, even vocal training too.”

The older grinned, his mood starting to lift. “Free of charge?”

Yixing looked offended. “Of course not. One order of ddeokbokki per lesson or no dice.”

Well, it’s a good thing Junmyeon gets paid tomorrow then. “Call.”

 

*

 

When Kim Junmyeon signed up for Zhang Yixing’s performance lessons a week ago, he did not expect this. They’re at a busy part of the park where the younger is setting up an old jukebox, a mixtape of original songs, and a fedora on the ground for tips.

“Don’t you think we should start somewhere smaller?” Confusion and anxiety wracked his body stiff. “And more private?”

Yixing popped in a tape labeled _I Need U_ on the radio and clicked play. “Yeah, but time is money. We can practice and make a few bucks while we’re at it. Win-win!”

At the thought of making extra pocket money while honing his skills, Junmyeon couldn’t argue. He waved away the man eagerly looking at him. “Okay, fine. Teach me, oh great one.”

“Let’s start with basic footwork.”

Junmyeon wanted to scoff. Basic footwork his ass. Yixing’s already luring a crowd with his little warm-up, natural charisma, and sharp movements cutting through the music.

But he tried to follow, refusing to quit on the first lesson.

It took him three tries until they moved on to more technical steps. And not long after, they were both in sync, the people watching them starting to clap and leave several green notes on the hat.

Junmyeon’s focus was on the dance and the music, but he must admit, the lesson was freeing. No one was telling him he’s not good enough, that he's got the visuals but lacks everywhere else.

He looked to Yixing, feeling brave, and started to tap dance freestyle.

With every beat and every step, his face lit up. A few of the kids cheered for him, urging him on. Junmyeon made a show of pulling on his suspenders, further delighting the children, the parents, and his dance partner a few feet away.

Once the hat was brimming with tips, they take a break by the benches. Yixing brought along some water to drink and Junmyeon opened up a container of ddeokbokki in front of the other's face. “It tastes better hot, but a promise is a promise.”

Junmyeon really tried not to laugh when his new teacher looked like a happy little kid. But he watched with a tiny bit of anticipation how Yixing ate the sticky treats.

“It's really good!” Yixing wiped his mouth before offering Junmyeon the next bite. The older of the two shook his head in disbelief but let Yixing feed him anyway. “And not too spicy. Luhan, remember him? He got me the hottest kind because he loves playing tricks. I cried and got scared of any food he wanted to give me after that, so I'm really happy you got me good ones. Almost makes me forget the first time I tried these.”

Junmyeon almost choked imagining Yixing crying with red hot sauce all over his face. Part of him would've liked to see that and he didn't know why. Could be because he was blindsided with the public lesson today.

“Well if you ever want to try other food from my country in a fun but safe manner, just call me.” He doesn't know why he said that either.

But Yixing smiled so wide that it didn't matter.

When they were done eating, Junmyeon watched the other man go through a bunch of papers from his guitar case. He couldn't explain how he felt when Yixing showed him what they were.

In his hands were sheets of lyrics and guitar chords of famous musicals as Yixing tuned his guitar. “I thought we could sing a song or two for vocal practice and to help get you more confidence. I heard some of those are going to open new shows again, so maybe we could try them.”

The last time they saw each other was a week ago. And in that time, it looked like Yixing has researched a bunch of musicals they could practice. Junmyeon had a hard time believing it and stared at the man sitting next to him. “You did all this?” _For me?_

Yixing shrugged easily, happy with the instrument as it is and gave a strum. “Yeah. Well, okay to be honest,” he grinned at Junmyeon shyly, caught. “One of my students helped me. She _loves_ musicals so I asked her what her favorites are so we can study them together. Kinda glad she didn't just give me Disney movies where the characters sing sometimes.”

Junmyeon laughed, still not used to the kindness. Growing up in Seoul and trying to make it in New York can make a person kind of jaded, and yet here's someone who hasn't let life bother him. “You're unbelievable.”

“Hmm?” Yixing stopped plucking the strings.

“Nothing.” Junmyeon pursed his lips, feeling warm. He looked over the lyrics and picked the one that called to him the most.

Yixing looked over his shoulder and grinned. “Nice one.”

And so they hypnotized passersby with their version of _Somewhere Over the Rainbow._

Junmyeon closed his eyes as he sang, smiling to himself when Yixing's voice joined his, _“And the dream that you dare to, why oh, why can't I?”_

 

*

  

One rainy day, the aspiring musical actor found the busker he met three months ago sitting in an empty gazebo at the park with his unopened guitar case and quiet jukebox, hiding from the weather.

Junmyeon walked towards him with care under his umbrella, mindful of his audition outfit. He needed to use it again for the callback. “Hey.”

Yixing looked up from the ground, the tiredness from his eyes disappearing at the sight of his friend.

Junmyeon sat next to a pillar, resting his back with closed eyes, letting the pitter-patter on the roof serenade them. “I love the rain.” He looked at the other man when he heard the soft chuckle, only to find the other smiling softly. “What?”

Yixing shook his head. “I was just thinking how it sucks that I can't play for tips and no one's around, not even the pigeons. But now that you're here…” The man swiped Junmyeon's umbrella and opened it. He stepped out of the gazebo, letting the sky wash over him.

_“Doo-dloo-doo-doo-doo…”_

Junmyeon laughed, eyes almost gone because the guy was too much. “Don’t.”

Yixing closed the umbrella, dancing with the water. _“I’m singin' in the rain. Just singin' in the rain…”_ He climbed a nearby lamppost, smiling to the heavens with a twirl. _“What a glorious feelin', I'm happy again.”_

“What you're gonna feel next is a fever or cold. Come back here!” Junmyeon shouted, taking off his coat to offer the other man.

Yixing just continued to dance, quite content with his audience of one. “No! You come here! This is good practice for your water stages!”

The younger man was now just splashing about, improvising Gene Kelly's moves with his own as his friend watched on. “Junmyeon-ah!”

Junmyeon bit his lip, checking if he had enough money for a good drycleaner for his outfit today. But like many times before, the older was amazed at how the younger could somehow read him.

“Don't worry!” Yixing called as he made a giant circle with his foot. “I’ll ask one of the aunties at the laundry shop. Just get over here!” He stopped moving, arm stretched and hand inviting.

Junmyeon sighed and shook his head, but he left his coat behind and ran to Yixing.

It felt like those times when Junmyeon went on vacation outside the city and he played in the rain with his brother. And by the way Yixing enjoyed the downpour, it seemed he did this a lot too as a boy growing up in the countryside.

He opened his mouth, caramel voice blending with the water. _“I’m laughing at clouds so dark up above…”_

“Yeah!” Yixing stepped beside Junmyeon, handing him the closed umbrella. “Bring it home, Jun Kelly.”

In reality, the water was harsh, cold, and will make any sane person want to run for cover.

And yet.

And yet he laughed even more, blinking the rain away. _“The sun's in my heart. And I'm ready for lo-“_

The lightning cut him off and the thunder jolted them stiff, a warning of the coming storm. Well, it's called _Singin' in the Rain_ for a reason. This weather was too much.

Junmyeon opened his umbrella and pulled Yixing along. “We need to leave.”

They quickly run to the gazebo for their things. Yixing gave him a funny look when Junmyeon wrapped the jukebox with his coat. “I’m already soaked anyway.”

The younger held the umbrella over them both since he didn't need both hands for the guitar case. It was a small umbrella so they needed to be close to be covered, but Junmyeon was thankful for the body heat. Neither of them could afford to get sick.

Yixing nudged him gently. “Want to come over my place until the storm passes?”

Junmyeon was quiet, just concentrating on not slipping with the heavy jukebox in his arms. But he can see the smile from the other's face, sensing the natural hesitation.

“My apartment's probably closer than yours. That's all.”

And they both knew Junmyeon didn't need to answer, already following Yixing.

_Why does September seem as sunny as spring?_

They walked on in silence, keeping close but with enough distance so they could avoid the unpleasant feeling of soaked clothes.

Soon, Yixing was opening the door to his apartment building.

Junmyeon stepped into a modest two-bedroom flat, carefully placing the jukebox on the coffee table.

“I’ll grab some towels and make coffee.” Yixing flicked on the lights and dropped his keys in a bowl before walking into the kitchen with his dripping guitar case.

Now, Junmyeon was raised properly. And even though the urge to snoop was compelling, he stayed in one spot and just looked around, figuring out which are his friend's and which are owned by his roommate Kris.

There was a small desk filled with letters and notes, but what caught his eye the most was the framed photo of a young Yixing with his grandparents. The boy was holding a jukebox above his lap, dimple present, as his grandpa clicked the play button for his smiling grandma.

Junmyeon gave up on staying rooted to the floor after a while. His parents aren't here anyway. He grabbed the photo from the corner table and looked closer, wondering if the jukebox is the same one he was carrying just moments ago.

The smell of coffee made him look away, and Junmyeon saw a cleaned up Yixing walking over, hot mug and towels in hand.

“Sorry.” Junmyeon placed the frame back on the table, putting the offered towel on the nape of his neck. He sheepishly smiled to the other behind the coffee mug.

“It’s okay.” Yixing used the other towel to ruffle Junmyeon's hair, helping to dry it quicker. “Glad you kind of met my grandparents.”

Junmyeon just let the other dry his hair without complaint, holding the mug tight to keep it from spilling. He's convinced it's because of the guilt from being so nosy. “The jukebox. Is it the same one you have now?”

Yixing rubbed behinds Junmyeon's ears, making sure they're clean and dry too. “Nah. I would never let my grandpa lose his again.”

“Again?” Junmyeon looked up, making the other stop.

“My grandpa sold his jukebox for my guitar as a birthday present when I was seven.” Yixing continued drying the other, grinning at the pink tips of Junmyeon’s ears. “When I found out, I did my best to learn playing as fast as I could so I can perform for tips and buy his jukebox back from our neighbor. Can’t let what made my grandma fall for my grandpa be owned by someone else.” The busker stepped away, satisfied with his efforts even though the older one's hair are pointing to all directions.

Junmyeon stared at the man in front of him, coffee forgotten in his hands. “Are you even real?”

“What?”

When he offered no explanation, Yixing blinked back, waiting. Junmyeon just shook his head. “No. Nothing.” He gave the other a smile before taking another sip. “It’s a nice story.”

Two empty cups later, the busker offered Junmyeon a change of clothes and a chance for a hot shower, claiming his roommate was pretty generous and pays for the water bill.

The TV was on when the older of the two stepped back into the living room. Outside the windows, the storm was still wreaking havoc in New York. There's no point in thinking he should leave before overstaying his welcome.

The two of them flipped through channels until Yixing found a Korean one. Junmyeon felt grateful for the other's thoughtfulness, knowing he misses home.

But hearing Yixing's unique laugh during the funny parts made him forget about it. Even if it was just for a second.

By the time that his friend's roommate came home, Yixing was sleeping soundly with his head resting on Junmyeon's shoulder.

Neither men had the heart to wake the youngest among them, fully aware how hard he worked every single day. Kris was kind enough to offer him some of the takeout he bought before resigning to his room.

Junmyeon ate happily on the couch as Joong Ki stole Hye Kyo's phone over her shoulder as the man next to him slept on his.

 

*

  

He couldn’t think.

Junmyeon clutched his chest, a hand supporting his weight on one knee, breathing labored and uneven. He can't hear anything except the blood pumping in him, fast and loud.

Today was the worst day of Junmyeon's life.

Six years and five months in this goddamn city and this is what he gets? A promising role is waiting for him if he- if he just-

He didn't want to remember it, going straight to cheapest bar he knows to get as many drinks as he can with as little money that he has so he can start forgetting.

Right now he doesn't care that it's still light out, too early to get trashed. Right now he ignored the video calls and emails from his family. He ignored his friend’s new message, putting his phone on silent.

All he wanted was to black out and wake up to a better life somehow, maybe as someone else even, whichever one possible. Fuck everyone else. Fuck the world.

The alcohol burned his throat.

Fuck his vocal chords too.

 

*

  

“Hello?” Yixing rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

The rough voice was confusing. He checked his phone and saw Junmyeon's name, but the caller didn't sound like him.

A shiver ran down Yixing's spine and he got up from the bed. “Junmyeon-ah. Where are you?”

_“Hello? Is this Korean guy your friend?”_

Yixing ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I-Is he okay?”

_“He’s fine. Just had one too many.”_

Yixing can hear Junmyeon groaning in the background. It's not like him to get hammered. Something was definitely wrong.

 _“Okay, listen, man. I'm a bartender at Rudy's on 9 th. Come pick up your friend because we're announcing last call.”_ The bartender huffed, still not used to lone drinkers sleeping at his bar.

Yixing nodded, too worried to remember he can't be seen. “Yes. Thank you.”

Kris was kind enough to lend him some money for two cab rides at this ungodly hour. But when he got to Rudy's, he almost stopped breathing.

Junmyeon was slumped over the bar counter, unmoving and lifeless. His skin felt clammy and paler than usual, eyes barely able to open when Yixing helped him to sit up.

The bartender handed him Junmyeon's phone, wallet, and keys. Apparently his friend threw things around in his drunken hysterics. Luckily no one was hurt.

They walked out to the street and the younger man hoped the cold breeze would help sober up his friend. Yixing held him closer, feeling the other wobbling in his steps. “Aiyah. Why did you do this?”

Junmyeon drunkenly smiled, seeing several Yixing's beside him.

The cab ride to Junmyeon's apartment was quiet. Yixing ignored the driver's eyes as he held Junmyeon's hand tightly while he sleeps off the alcohol.

The climb to Junmyeon's apartment wasn't as quiet though, with his ramblings of random show tunes, a couple of slurred Korean words he had a hard time translating, and very flattering comments about Yixing.

“You’re cute, you know that?” Junmyeon was leaning on the other who was attempting to open the door. When Junmyeon didn't get a response, he grabbed Yixing's face with both hands, trying to make him understand. He needs to understand. “Like _really_ cute. I would d-dig through a pile of CDs for your f-face.”

He turned Yixing's squished face left and right, moving his own closer in search of something. “Extra points with the deep,” he hiccuped, eyes narrowing. “Deep dimple. Forgot where it is.”

Yixing scrunched his face, trying not to laugh.

“Ah! There it is…” Junmyeon buried his nose in Yixing's cheek, truly believing he can just crawl in there with all the liquor in his system.

The busker maneuvered their bodies to simply hold the older one in his arms so he can finally open the door.

He led his drunken friend into the bedroom, gently helping him on the bed before taking off his shoes.

Junmyeon was breathing more evenly when Yixing started to press a cold cloth on his face, wiping dirt and sweat away. He also felt relieved when color returned to his skin.

It was easy to smile when the actor was leaning in to his every touch, mouth parting slightly for a content sigh, and the beautiful mole above his lips catching his attention.

He let go of the cloth. His fingers trace a path from soft peach cheeks down to a sharp jaw, all the way to a pulsing vein on the fair neck before he pulled away.

 

*

 

The sun shining outside the window woke Junmyeon up. He waited for a killer headache gifted by the world's worst hangover, but it didn't come. Turning on his bed, he saw an open pack of pain killers and a glass of water. Must've taken it sometime during the night.

With arms raised, he stretched his bones until his bare foot hit something soft. “Hmm?”

He straightened up, eyes wide when he saw Yixing asleep, sitting on the floor by the foot of his bed, face towel clutched loosely.

Junmyeon couldn't say he was surprised to see him. Sure he didn't remember anything from the last couple of hours, and he didn't expect to wake up to this, but he wasn't surprised that Yixing was just there. Here. With him.

But he's still not used to other people taking care of him, guilt prickling his skin.

It must have been some time since he started staring because his friend was now blearily blinking back at him.

The older man got off the bed as he tried to help the other stand up. Yixing smiled sleepily, checking if Junmyeon was feeling better. “No headache? That's good.”

“So that was you.” Junmyeon took the cloth from Yixing as the other stretched the kinks from his limbs. “Thought I was smart enough to have done that myself.”

He emptied the glass of water from his nightstand before turning around to show a pack of cigarettes. “Do you mind?”

Yixing shook his head. “Should we go outside?”

They climbed to the rooftop of Junmyeon's building. No one was around and the only noise they can hear are several feet below them. The actor loved coming up here both for practice and peace of mind, and it was the first time he brought anyone over.

He stood behind a ledge, leaning away from the city while Yixing leaned forward, eyes taking in the view. The man's apartment building may be crap but the view from up here more than makes up for it.

Junmyeon lit a cigarette, greedily breathing in poison. From the corner of his eye, he can see the other's worried look. Not one bit of judgement, just concern. Junmyeon blew out the smoke away before inhaling fresh air. “I don't do this often.”

It was just an outlet when things got too much.

Yixing took the stick from him, placing it between his lips before breathing in menthol. He made perfect circles in the air before giving the cigarette back. “My grandma would kill me if she sees me now.”

Junmyeon knows, he just _knows_ , that Yixing was waiting for him to talk. And a part of him wants to, but fear, shame, and doubt were beating it back down.

He's not used to leaning on anyone about his own burdens either, not wanting to be a bother. He's done it for so long that he doesn't really know how to ask for help even when he wanted to, even when he needed to.

They finished about three sticks between them with the sun close to the middle now, telling them it's almost noon.

Yixing patted his jeans clean, moving away from the ledge. “I hate to cut this short, but I have a music lesson in two hours. Kid's house is a bit far from here.” He gave Junmyeon back his phone before he accidentally leaves with it, holding his hand just a second longer. “Call me when you want to talk.”

The older one nodded, brows met in the middle as he contemplated on whether or not he should light up another.

Yixing was halfway through door of the roof when his ringtone filled the air. He looked over at his friend, face hiding a smile.

Junmyeon was holding his phone by his ear, waiting for the other to pick up. But Yixing walked towards his friend, saving him minutes for his family back in Seoul instead.

The noise of the city turned into a lull as Yixing watched people walking on the streets, wondering where they're off to, but what he heard next muted everything else.

“Someone offered me a good role if I agree to sleep with them.” Junmyeon felt the eyes on him, causing shivers. He leaned more on the ledge and felt Yixing moving closer to him until their arms met.

What happened yesterday was still horribly vivid in his mind. It was one of the few times he got to finish a song on stage, he was even asked to dance his favorite choreography, and he felt so high when other actors auditioning applauded him. But oh what a fall it was when he was asked to stay behind, hoping for good news, only to find out that one of the producers just wanted to fuck him. “I feel like my life is a joke.”

He didn't stop the other man from draping an arm over his shoulders. It was comforting.

“Fuck them.”

Junmyeon couldn't help but laugh even now. It was the first time he's heard Yixing curse in the seven months they've known each other, saying there's no need for them, even when Luhan spilled hot tea on him that one time the restaurant was fully booked.

His friend pulled him closer, and it's keeping him from falling to his knees, keeping the fragments together. But he couldn't stop the choked sobs from escaping. “Should I just leave? Am I crazy for wanting this?”

It seemed like the world keeps rejecting him and he was just stubborn to the core to keep fighting, to not go to the direction he's being pushed to. They see something that he refused to acknowledge. But maybe now he's ready to listen, to agree with them because what the hell was he doing with his life?

He sobbed harder when he felt warm lips on his temple. He wants to go home.

Yixing rested his head on the other's, eyes shut tight. The sight of Junmyeon crying was too much to bear. “They’re the crazy ones for not wanting you.”

The older of them doesn't know how they went from leaning side by side to just holding each other or how long they stayed like this. The sun kept beating down on them and he recalled Yixing making a call to reschedule his music class. It must have been a while. Junmyeon doesn't care that he smelled like alcohol, tobacco, and sweat as he accepted Yixing's embrace.

His head and his heart are a mess, but he swears he can feel some of the knots in him loosen until he can breathe again as Yixing sang softly in his ear. _“You’ll never know how grateful I am for standing in front of you again…”_

Junmyeon fisted the man's hoodie from the back, mumbling, “We see each other every day” somewhere along his torso.

Yixing just smiled because that's how the song goes.

 

*

 

Two weeks of healing, two weeks. It took Junmyeon two weeks to move past the worst audition anyone could ever have. He didn't plan to derail his schedule for this long but he felt almost no guilt when Yixing kept telling to just take his time.

When Junmyeon told his family what happened, his mother cried while his father and brother fumed and vowed to fly to America to beat the producer to a pulp. But he promised them that he's doing better and there really was no need. Just sharing what happened was the boost he needed to go forward.

Junmyeon was also very amused because his mother kept calling him more often than before, asking him how she can send a home cooked meal from Seoul to his apartment. “Or even just your favorite ramyeon, Junmyeon-ah. I am your mother. It's my job to take care of you.”

Yixing must have heard one of these calls because he now brings food from Koreatown whenever they meet up.

Junmyeon always frowned when he does this, saying how Yixing should save his money so he can finally rent out a decent recording studio for his album demo.

“Don't worry about me,” is all he'll say as he blew on a hot piece of ddeokbokki, making himself comfortable on Junmyeon’s couch without spilling his snack.

His friend also promised to accompany him during auditions as much as he can for backup. Apparently Kris and Luhan did the same for Yixing when he started out in the city, making sure the youngest was protected from lowlifes preying on people with big dreams.

Junmyeon was circling auditions on today's newspaper as Yixing went on, “I remember Lu-ge kicking this ‘talent scout' right between his legs when he tried to take topless photos of me. I was still working on my English and I guess the guy could tell. Kris threatened to sue the guy and made sure to get proof of what happened in case the scout wanted to ruin my image with music labels and other agencies.” Yixing grinned proudly as he pointed a stick to the sky, recalling the day with his brothers.

It now made sense why Luhan can get away with just about anything with Yixing and how protective Kris was over his roommate.

Yixing peeked over Junmyeon's shoulder and scanned the newspaper himself. He points the ddeokbokki stick at one of the roles Junmyeon ignored, quickly circling the ad himself with leftover sauce. It was also red anyway. “That part is perfect for you.”

“Yah!” The older quickly wiped the sauce before it sets, frowning when the paper still smelled like food. “Aweh! Why? Whyyy?”

The younger man laughed at Junmyeon's attempt to push him off the couch and the accent slipping in.

Junmyeon rolled his eyes at the laughing child beside him, pursing his lips to keep from smiling at the unusual sound. He could never get used to it. He turned back to what Yixing so rudely circled, eyes going wide. “Tony? You think I'd be a good Tony from _West Side Story_?”

Yixing pointed the stick at him. “No.”

“But you-“

“I said perfect.” Yixing popped another piece of sticky rice into his mouth.

Junmyeon didn't want the busker to see the pink dusting his cheeks and pulled the paper over his face. He really should stop letting the younger man borrow his copies of musicals. Sure it’s fun to have someone to talk to about it, but right now it really doesn’t feel like it’s worth it. “Not happening.”

Yixing put away his food and pulled down the newspaper to see his friend's face. “Why not?”

He couldn't help the huff that left him. _West Side Story_ is one of the biggest musicals of all time, so big that it's having another production yet again. If it goes well, like it always does, a tour across the states is highly possible, even abroad. It was too much pressure.

“Look,” Yixing stared. “That audition is over two months away. If you don’t get any other part before that day, promise me you’d try out?”

It’s not fair. The younger man was facing Junmyeon with this _look_ full of hope and pride and something soft he can’t explain, and it’s really compelling him to just agree with him. Like he didn’t have a choice. Sooner or later he’d really join Kris and Luhan in Yixing’s hyung fan club if he’s not careful.

Junmyeon hasn’t even said anything yet but the other’s already smiling. “Is that a yes?”

Okay so maybe he’s already in the hyung fan club. But he can’t let the other man know that so he simply rolled his eyes even if the corners of his lips are heavenward. “Fine, fine. But you promise me that you won’t buy me any more food than necessary, okay?”

“Why not?” Yixing longingly looked at the rest of the Korean treats he brought along. “You want something else?”

Junmyeon grabbed Yixing’s face with both hands, effectively puffing up his cheeks. “Stop spending your money on me and get your butt in the studio you told me about. I mean geez, you didn’t even let me buy you a cupcake for your birthday last month.”

“Youw needed neww hewdshowts.” Yixing blinked, cheeks cramping and flashbacks of drunk Junmyeon flooding his mind. But he nodded anyway, unable to move his mouth further.

“Good,” Junmyeon let go of his face, grabbing the paper again. He used his red marker to make the ddeokbokki circle permanent. “Honestly, the first time you bought me dumplings was more than enough.”

The busker leaned his back on Junmyeon’s side, grabbing the adorable bungeo-ppang fish-shaped pastry, a perfect combination of sweet and savory in his humble opinion. “You’re not used to being taken care of, huh?”

Junmyeon hummed in agreement. It’s not necessarily a bad thing. He liked being independent and reliable. If he wasn’t, it’s a guarantee that he wouldn’t have lasted this long in New York. But Yixing’s one to talk. He grew up taking care of his grandparents after all. "And you love taking care of other people.”

“Yeah.” He happily bit the pastry, enjoying the red bean paste and flaky crust. “Especially the starving artist kind.”

“Hey!” Junmyeon swatted the other with the newspaper. “Is that why you chased after me? Did I look that bad that day? You get more than twenty dollar bills all the time, don’t you?!”

Yixing laughed, protecting himself and his fish bun. “I just chose the nicer way to feed you.”

Junmyeon takes it back. He’s no member of Yixing’s hyung fan club. The guy can go rot for all he cares.

 

*

  

Halfway through the deadline that his friend gave, Junmyeon got a very confusing call from Yixing. Sound was coming through on his phone, he held it away from his ear to check if it’s really on and was actually showing the caller’s name, but he couldn’t understand anything. “Xing? Hello?”

_“Shì! Shì! I-I mean yes! It’s me! I’m here! Sorry!”_

Ah. Must have been speaking Chinese. Junmyeon chuckled. “What’s up?”

_“I counted my tips for today and I finally have enough money for studio time!”_

Junmyeon felt a swell of pride bloom in his chest. His friend has deserved this for so long. He would’ve been able to do it way before if he was a little more selfish instead of feeding starving artists, giving his tips to other performers at the parks, helping out people he knew in Chinatown, and of course sending money back to his grandparents. To this day, Junmyeon wondered how Yixing was even real. He’s more unicorn than human. “That’s great! I’m so happy for you.”

And he really was.

_“Are you free this weekend? I was thinking you can join me during recording. I mean if that’s okay? You might be busy-“_

“Yixing. I’d love to.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line that Junmyeon had to hold the phone away from his ear again to check if they got cut off. “Still there?”

Laughter came through a second later. _“Yeah. Still here.”_

Junmyeon pursed his lips, fighting the stupid grin threatening to come out even though he’s alone in the apartment. “Xing-”

_“Junmyeon-ah. I can’t wait for the weekend.”_

The actor couldn’t quite remember if it was one or two beats that his heart skipped. But he did count that there were four more days until the weekend.

 

*

 

There’s something mesmerizing seeing Yixing in his element. The man was just radiating passion inside the little booth as he tested out the equipment. It would have been better if the artist could separately record his guitar and vocals but the extra time would cost another arm and leg. Still, Junmyeon knows Yixing wouldn’t waste any second.

And he’s obviously right because the studio staff, who were too bored and lazy to even help Yixing set up behind the glass, were now intent on watching his friend.

The studio was gradually filled with the alluring sound of strings. _“Baby, your soft voice makes me open my heart.”_

With each song that gets finished, Junmyeon really hoped and prayed that his friend’s efforts would pay off. The world may not deserve him, but Yixing deserves to be heard by everyone.

By the end of the session, the studio staff finished Yixing’s demo in record time. They were so impressed that they even made extra copies for free so he can reach out to more record agents and scouts.

Needless to say, Yixing was on cloud nine when they left.

Junmyeon ate quietly and just watched on as the other shared his experience in the booth, playing with the buttons, adding layers of other sound and instruments, hearing every note and every breath so clearly. Yixing barely touched his food he was so excited.

The older of the two paid for their meal in Koreatown since the younger was obviously short on cash today. But seeing how happy his friend was right now, it’s worth working an extra shift or two to keep his budget on track.

When they reached Junmyeon’s building, the actor felt a tug on his sleeve. “Hmm?”

A plastic CD case was placed in his right hand. Written on it was a simple ‘ _To JM. ZYX.’_

It was a blessing that the weather was starting to get chillier this time of year so their faces are naturally rosy. Junmyeon bit his lip, clutching the CD tight. “You should have saved this for another agent. You know I’d buy your album when it comes out.”

Yixing looked up to the grey sky, wondering if it will snow soon. He wound the scarf tighter around his neck. “I don’t want you to forget me.”

At this, Junmyeon laughed, punching Yixing’s shoulder. “Ah. So when you make it big, you’re gonna ignore the little people in your life? Like me? Wow. I thought it would be at least two years before you forgot me.”

The busker shook his head, grinning from ear to ear. “No! Never!” He placed both hands on Junmyeon’s shoulders to stop the punching. “We both know that once you start collecting your Tony awards and other trophies from London, Seoul, and all over, you’d forget the Chinese guy you met in a park.”

Junmyeon flipped the CD case in his hands, smirking. “I don’t know. If my acting thing doesn’t work out and you get famous, I can sell this for a fortune.”

Yixing flipped Junmyeon so the man is now facing his building, pushing him to the entrance doors as the other chuckled on. “Okay then you better give me your signature on a playbill or one of your headshots or something so I have a backup plan too.'"

The actor thinks it’s just his friend’s way of spending more time in his apartment or avoiding having to ask Kris to help out with music industry people again. He really didn’t mind either way.

 

*

 

As promised, Junmyeon was going to try out for _West Side Story_ should his other auditions fall through. He can tell that the man walking beside him, who offered protection for today, was quite giddy. Sure, Yixing was sorry and sad as well whenever Junmyeon gave him bad news from previous tryouts but it also meant the older had to do what he said.

The two of them were allowed to sit inside the theatre, seeing as they came a few hours too early until audition starts. Both were staring at the stage, one in wonder of the beauty and ambiance of the place and one humbled by the magnitude of it all.

Junmyeon was playing with his fingers, nervous. He wanted to pull on the sleeves of his white button up or even run a hand through his styled up hair but he had to look his best for his turn on the stage. Air caught in his throat when Yixing held his hand. “Just breathe.”

And he did. He filled his lungs until he was laughing at how nervous he was. It’s not like he hasn’t done this before. It’s been close to seven years after all.

He squeezed the other’s hand, smiling. The theatre always made him happy. “The first time I saw a musical was when my mom got free tickets for Peter Pan as a Christmas gift from her office. My dad and brother enjoyed watching, but I fell in love with it.”

As a young boy, he didn’t question why a grown man was playing a character who never wanted to grow up or why Tinkerbell was human-sized. It was perfect. He loved it. Everything was still so clear to him, and the feeling never left.

When Yixing squeezed back, Junmyeon continued. “My family thought I just found my next hobby, since kids love new things all the time. But not me. I asked my parents to rent out tapes of other musicals, joined drama classes and plays in school, applied for theatre jobs no matter what they were. I loved every second.”

One of the theatre staff started preparing the stage for the auditions, and it was magical seeing the grand drape rise up. Both men felt goosebumps on their skin.

“I wanted to be someone whose voice makes the viewers love musicals the way I do. Even if it’s just one person.” Junmyeon sighed, watching the crew bring out the red light. He prayed it won’t light up during his turn because he wants to finish his song. “And maybe that person would want to be a musical actor too.”

They waited, perfectly content in the seats, until one of the staff informed them that auditions are beginning shortly. Luckily, it was okay for Yixing to stay put and watch if he didn’t record anything.

Junmyeon smiled from stage left, perfectly seeing the busker in his seat trying not to clap for the actors who did well. He was reprimanded the first time he did that by one of the casting directors, and because he didn’t want to be kicked off the theatre, he simply sat on his hands to fight the impulse.

Unbelievable.

“Junmyeon Kim!”

He swears his heart stopped but thankfully his feet took him to center stage. Facing the casting people, he sees they’re quite a few rows away. It meant they wanted to see if Junmyeon’s vocal control included volume. Okay.

“Hi. I’m Junmyeon and I’m here to audition for the role of Tony.” Oh good. His heart was beating again. Unfortunately it’s beating too loud, his head now pounding along, and is he seeing spots or are those headlights just too bright?

But he was thankful because the casting people were still smiling at him. And he was even more grateful that Yixing was gesturing for him to relax.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Junmyeon looked up to the curtains, calming his heart. If this was going to be his last time, he wants to make it count.

He started walking, a look of wonderment in his eyes. “Maria. Maria.” He smiled.

Inhale, exhale, footsteps echoed all around as his eyes honed into his spectators. _“The most beautiful sound I ever heard.”_ He walked further towards them. _“All the beautiful sounds of the world in a single word.”_  

Every smile, every step, twinkle, and change in his voice, everything was captivating. Junmyeon was the very image of a man in love with a girl named Maria.

And as Junmyeon’s eyes turned up to the ceiling the way Tony did, his audience fell in love with him. Every single one.

 

*

  

This was a good thing. Being asked to stay behind was a good thing. It means they want to hear another song or a callback for another day. Junmyeon wished he could at least wait with Yixing inside the theatre instead of backstage.

The last of the actors have finished their turn and the only noise left surrounding him were from other hopefuls waiting with him, the crew clearing out the stage, and the incessant tapping of his dress shoes on the floor.

His heart was also clamoring in his chest at the moment, making it hard to hear what the casting director was announcing to the group. He saw people rejoicing around him but he couldn’t understand anything.

It was only until someone grabbed him by the shoulder and gave him an enthusiastic hug did he snap out of it. Junmyeon met eyes with ones the size of the moon, the actor who tried out for Riff. “Congratulations, buddy! You’re the fucking lead!”

Junmyeon’s shoulders were shook, the actor happy for him and for the others in the room too. The shorter male let go to offer his hand. “I’m gonna be your best friend Riff. I’m Kyungsoo by the way!”

Even though he had a smaller stature, his commanding aura and voice made sense. Junmyeon grinned, accepting the handshake. “Junmyeon.” And they both laughed, relief and pure bliss flooding their system, all the way to their very core. Life has opened a door and it will lead to a place they couldn’t possibly imagine.

Several minutes have passed before the excitement calmed down enough for the new cast of Broadway’s revival of _West Side Story_ to receive their scripts and rehearsal schedules.

Junmyeon would never admit it to anyone, but he was shaking just a tiny bit when he got his copy.

When the cast and crew got the green light to leave, Junmyeon was almost out of breath when he ran back to the theatre seats to meet Yixing. The actor didn’t have to say anything when the younger man saw the look on his face and just ran straight to his arms.

He felt Yixing patting his back encouragingly, calloused fingers coming up from his neck to his hair. Tears and smiles bloomed on his face, sobs and laughter wrecking him silly. Junmyeon just embraced him, ignoring the way he started to crinkle the papers in his hands and the creeping heat on his cheeks.

Back in Chinatown, Yixing’s surrogate family threw Junmyeon a full-on feast with free flowing drinks. The actor received congratulations from everyone he met, hugs from a lot of aunties, and endless praises from Luhan.

Yixing watched in amusement as Junmyeon kept switching from enjoying his meal and hugging more aunties. His aunties from the restaurant and dry cleaning place were so close to not letting Junmyeon go, so proud of their handsome baobao, and Luhan kept talking his ear off to give tips. Sure the music major gave decent advice but Junmyeon could barely eat.

The older man panicked a little when he saw Yixing attempting to leave their table. He wouldn’t be able to survive with all this affection and quick switches of Mandarin and English. “Xing?”

The busker could probably hear the desperation in his voice as he chuckled. “Don’t worry. Kris is just calling me, have to take it.”

Junmyeon nodded and a second later, the aunty that Junmyeon worked part time for started calling for him too. Yixing laughed as he left to find a quiet corner.

By the time the two men were stuffed enough to leave the restaurant, they started walking home. They could barely talk with the chilly night air freezing their faces, but Yixing was unusually quiet beside him. Poor guy must be exhausted again. He worked extra shifts and rescheduled a lot of music classes for the past couple of days so he can spend an entire day with Junmyeon.

The mere thought of his friend’s efforts warmed him up to his toes but it didn’t stop him from moving closer to the other man for body heat, and also just in case Yixing collapsed.

It’s a good thing the younger’s apartment was closer this time, but Junmyeon had to grab Yixing’s arm to stop him from going past his own building, too distracted to notice. The busker blinked in surprise, taking in his surrounding for a second before realizing where they were. 

Junmyeon’s brows met in the middle, worried. Yixing hasn’t moved or taken out his keys, looking a little lost. The older one took out a hand from his coat pocket and cupped the other’s face. “You okay?”

The way Yixing looked at him, Junmyeon will never forget it. His stare was deep, eyes just focused on him like he was all he could see.

Junmyeon couldn’t handle any more, breath stuttering when he called his name.

Yixing suddenly smiled, leaning a little into Junmyeon’s hand and cupping it with his own. “Yeah. I’m okay.” He gave the other man’s hand a quick squeeze before pulling away to fish for his keys.

When he was halfway through the door, Junmyeon stepped closer, stopping it from closing. He offered his sincerest smile, hoping the man knew just how grateful he was. “Thanks for pushing me for this audition.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Yixing chuckled. “You’re the one who killed the song. And I always knew you belonged up there.”

Junmyeon grinned, the tips of his ears matching his cheeks. “I just didn’t want to forget to thank you during my speech at the Tony Awards, you know?”

“Aiyah!” The man shook his head, laughing that sound that knots the older one’s stomach in a twist.

 

* 

 

The hectic rehearsals made the past six weeks pass by in a blur. Junmyeon’s days were filled with pages, hair gels and spray, fantastic costumes, and awe-inspiring cast mates and coworkers. Every now and then during the time he clocks out, Yixing would be waiting for him by the staff entrance with a soft smile on his face, ready to ask him how practice went.

And the actor was more than happy to retell and relive the whole day all over again to his audience of one. But he was so excited and so into his recap that he missed the way the man next to him listened and looked on in pure wonder.

The two of them understandably were spending less time together, though they still tried to meet up. Junmyeon was busy preparing for his musical debut and Yixing was in between teaching his kids music, performing at the park, and doing odd jobs here and there.

Sometimes Yixing also came over to Junmyeon’s apartment with bags of food, “Which were given free by aunty so don’t make that face!” Though more often than not, the younger man would end up asleep, heavy with exhaustion, on Junmyeon’s couch.

He loved the mornings after, though. Both of them would wake up, make for the rooftop, open up Junmyeon’s plastic thermos of coffee and watch the sun come up. Sometimes Yixing would sing him a song or two, sometimes Junmyeon would sing a song or two as Tony. But they mostly just enjoyed watching the light wake up the rest of the city.

 

*

 

Before Junmyeon knew it, opening night was a breath away, a week to be exact. Yixing tried not to laugh as his friend sat petrified on the barber chair for a haircut. His hair has gotten unruly and he had to trim it up a bit to resemble Tony’s more clean-cut look. Junmyeon was trying to keep his face devoid of anything, knowing Yixing is just messing with him when he spoke only in Chinese when telling the barber what to do.

Oh the things he had to endure to save money until his next paycheck.

As they were halfway between Chinatown and Yixing’s apartment, they caught Kris on his way to lunch. They exchanged hugs, Junmyeon grinning when Kris told him how excited he was for the play, boasting of paying full price for a ticket to support him.

But before they could leave the older man to enjoy his break from lawschool, Kris pulled Yixing into a one-armed hug. “Yixing-ah, I can’t wait for your first album soon too.”

Yixing grimaced, embarrassed. “Not now.”

“What?” Kris pouted, thick eyebrow raised. “You two are celebrating, no? Well as much as you can with your schedules and-“

Yixing gently peeled off his roommate’s arm and grinned awkwardly. “Yeah, so we really should go…”

The oldest looked confused and Junmyeon mirrored him. But understanding passed the man’s face before he waved off the two. “Right, right. I won’t keep you guys waiting. See you around!”

Junmyeon frowned, sensing the last bit of tension in the air. “What’s up with you two?”

When Yixing didn’t offer any answer, the actor knew it meant his friend didn’t want to lie to him. He took the man’s hand in his, playing with his fingers to lighten the mood. “Sorry. It’s none of my business. But I hope you’re not fighting.”

“We’re not. I’m just tired.” The busker was staring at their hands, looking unwilling to let go. “Can we go back to yours?”

Junmyeon nodded, seeing as he had the day off. He was about to pull his hand away when Yixing held on tighter before starting to walk.

At the apartment, Yixing went through Junmyeon’s movie collection, choosing which ones they could watch. The older man wasn’t even surprised that his friend chose nothing but musicals.

Yixing grinned proudly, “I’m gonna pick your next roles.”

“Shut up and pop in the first one.”

Yixing tried not to get up from his seat to dance along to _Chicago_. They fell in love once again with Julie Andrews at _The Sound of Music_ and argued whether the spoonful of sugar in _Mary Poppins_ was actually drugs. The younger man pointed out next that Junmyeon would be perfect for _The King and I_ or any royal character really. But when he cheekily whispered, “I’d pay good money to hear you sing pussy wagon” in _Grease_ , he fell off the couch laughing with the other continuously hitting him with a pillow.

It was around eleven at night when Yixing asked for one last movie. When the intro to _West Side Story_ filtered the room, Junmyeon only shook his head. Unbelievable.

Yixing sat closer to him this time with a soft plea. “Can you sing Tony’s parts?”

Junmyeon chuckled, wrapping the blanket tighter around his frame. “Only if you become my Maria.”

The younger man tugged at the blanket, pouting that the other was hogging it. “I don’t have her range, but I can try.”

Of course Yixing saved the show tunes to the musical actor as he crooned on about Maria. It was the most incredible thing he’s seen and heard, and the way Junmyeon hummed and smiled along to the other parts in joy and passion were quite the sight too. It was a shame Yixing had to focus back on the TV to keep up with the rest of the movie.

Once the credits started to roll, Junmyeon got off the couch to fix it up for Yixing, expecting his friend will stay the night. But he grinned when he remembered the gift his production team gave everyone yesterday.

He pulled out a red envelope from the coat he wore and handed it to the younger man. When his friend refused to take it, he shook his head in amusement, mimicking the way Yixing placed his demo CD in his hands just a few months ago. “It’s a ticket for opening night.”

Junmyeon bit his lip, not knowing if he should say more, but followed his instincts anyway. “Since we’re just about to start, they could only give us one ticket each. I know my mom would fly all the way here just to watch, but I asked her if I could give it to you instead.”

Yixing clutched the envelope in his hands, trembling slightly and refused to meet his eyes. “I can’t take this.”

The older man laughed softly, used to his friend’s reluctance to accept anything for himself, or maybe even thinking about Junmyeon’s mom too. “Don’t worry. I promised her a ticket to any other schedule. Or all the remaining shows if she wanted.” He certainly got an earful from his mother but she understood his request.

“No. I can’t.”

“Yixing.” Junmyeon placed both his hands on the younger’s shoulders, sighing. “I want you there.” He couldn’t help the frown marring his face when the other still wouldn’t look at him. “Please?”

Yixing stood up, dropping the envelope on the table to grab his coat. He stalked to the door, breath heavy, and eyes shining.

Junmyeon followed suit, confused and hurt. “Xing. Wait. What’s happening?”

The busker’s hand was on the doorknob, grip tight with white knuckles. He can feel Junmyeon was just a step behind him now, and all he could do was rest his forehead on the cold wood. “I’m leaving.”

“Don’t leave yet, we have to talk about this.”

Yixing turned around, face in pain, chest heaving, and hand still ready to open his escape. “No. I’m leaving New York.”

Junmyeon felt the air knocked right out of him. It was a wonder his knees didn’t buckle. “What?”

“I got signed a few months ago. They want me to move to L.A.” And it was supposed to be good news. They should be celebrating Yixing’s dream too.

But neither of them were smiling. “When do you have to go?”

Yixing closed his eyes again. More pain. “The m-morning of… of…”

And Junmyeon understood. Yixing had to leave the morning of his opening night.

“I asked them for an extension, but they refused. I don’t know if I should… I-I don’t want to…“ He finally looked at Junmyeon. He wanted to tell him the second he got the call, but a bigger part of him didn’t want to distract the other from his rehearsals, from his first shot of making his mark, thinking he could break the news after opening night. But the label wouldn’t budge. And why would they? Yixing’s a new artist and has no rank to pull with them just yet.

“Don’t be silly. It’s your dream.” Junmyeon brushed it away. Whatever _it_ is, he didn’t know. Dread? Sadness? Longing? Maybe a combination of all three. He completely understands. “Besides, we’ll be so busy we won’t have time to miss each other. We both know how this works.” And he really must be getting good at acting if he’s pulling this off.

“Junmyeon, I-“

“Don’t.” He pulled the other man into his hold, trying his best to keep from falling. “I’m happy for you.” And he is. He means it with every atom holding him together. “I’m so-“

In all the time they have known each other and all the seasons they have shared, neither thought their first kiss would be like this. It was heartbreakingly perfect.

Junmyeon melted into the feel of Yixing’s lips, all thoughts leaving to make room for his touch. He felt the other tilt his head slightly, pulling him closer. He felt the soft pressure reach his very bones, and it made him breathless.

Yixing took this as a chance to slip in his tongue, their warm breaths blending, hands wandering for more skin, both chasing the taste and touch of the other.

Junmyeon felt lightheaded when they pulled away. He stared into Yixing’s heady eyes, ears and cheeks painted.

But what he said next took all the color away. And he hated himself for it. “You should go.”

Tonight. In a few days. It didn’t matter. They can’t go further than this, to more than what they could handle.

He closed his eyes when Yixing’s forehead found his, nodding gently. “I know.”

 

*

 

Their remaining days fell into routine, rehearsals for Junmyeon as Yixing prepared for his big move with barely enough time spent together.

The actor pushed his body to its limit, ending practice for longer than necessary. Maybe if he trained enough, his mind will refocus on his goals and his heart will follow suit. It was better this way, make their goodbyes a little easier.

Yixing was stubborn though. No matter how late Junmyeon came home, the younger one would be waiting by his door with food. They’d enjoy their meal and talk about their day like it was any other, or at least they tried. 

Junmyeon would go quiet when Yixing stretched a hand towards his own. And he would let it happen for a while until his want became too much. So he asked him to go, every night without fail. No more, no less.

They had an understanding. They needed to keep each other at arm’s length as much as they can withstand it, in fear that any more would make moving on that much harder. They’ve had years of practicing choosing career over anything else anyway.

It doesn’t mean both didn’t hesitate at the door when Yixing did have to leave. He has this look only Junmyeon can bring out in him, knowing what it means, knowing he was staring the exact same way.

Junmyeon wanted to voice out what he felt, but his courage always died in his throat. So he simply pulled the man into his arms, smiling a little because they at least had this to add to all the times they’ve known each other.

But Yixing was indeed stubborn. He wouldn’t step out the door so quickly. Didn’t matter what time it was, making the moment last for as long as they could.

So the older one would be the strong one for them both and gently nudge him to the exit, close the door quietly, and wait until Yixing finally walked away before he leaned his head and hand to the door. He had to endure for when the time comes that the distance between them couldn’t be crossed by their feet. Practice makes perfect, and both of them trained harder than anyone they knew.

It wasn’t long until the calendar on his wall was filled with enough red marks to show that tomorrow was Junmyeon’s debut and Yixing’s departure.

The older couldn’t take it anymore. “Don’t come over.”

He heard the heavy breathing from the other end of the call, followed by a whisper, _“Why?”_

Junmyeon closed a hand over his eyes, feeling the oncoming headache on his temple. He thought he could do it. Spend their last night like they always did, talk about their future even if there were no guarantees they would be a part of it, and look forward to their hard work finally coming to fruition. But he can’t. “I’ll just see you tomorrow, okay?”

That he could do. He’ll save all the strength he has in his body from tonight for tomorrow.

Yixing hung up and Junmyeon felt tears threatening to break. He threw his phone on the coffee table, placing both hands on his face, elbows digging into his knees. He can be strong. He has no choice.

So he got off the couch for his bedroom, ready to let the night slip away and get as much sleep as he can.

He was starting to drift off when he remembered that he threw away his alarm clock during his fit of frustration. He was hurting, yes, but he didn’t want to be late for Yixing’s flight because of it.

Tracing fingers on the walls for guidance, he blearily searched for his phone in the dimly lit living room. Upon checking, it was close to midnight already, so the faint knocking on the door could have been the wind from his opened windows or his sleepy mind playing with him.

“Junmyeon-ah.”

His heart leaped to his throat, but he pushed his feet forward, grabbing the knob to open the door before he changed his mind. Yixing was wrapped under layers of thick clothing, cheeks pink, ears peeking from his wool hat, and eyes smiling hopefully at him.

It was the most heartwarming sight Junmyeon has ever seen.

A laugh escaped him as he pulled the younger man inside, shaking his head in disbelief. “You never listen, do you?”

Junmyeon was wrapped in strong arms, heat rising from his bare toes to the tips of his fingers. He felt Yixing rest a chin on the junction of his neck and shoulder, perfectly content. “Aren’t you glad that I don’t?”

There were no words exchanged when Junmyeon pulled Yixing towards his bedroom, just soft smiles on their faces.

He peeled off the younger’s coat and hat, unwrapped his scarf next and let it fall to their feet. Yixing watched the other bend down to remove his shoes, lips curved when his calloused fingers twined through fine hair.

A slight shiver ran through Yixing when Junmyeon gently pushed up his shirt, breath caught in his throat as plump lips met the moles on his neck. He wrapped a hand on Junmyeon’s nape, the other sliding down fair curves to anchor his knees from giving.

Junmyeon mouthed a trail from the small spot just under Yixing’s ear, the cut of his jaw, and rosy cheeks until he captured lips.

Warm breaths fanned his skin, prickling as Yixing tugged off his shirt, pulling him flush to his torso. He groaned when fingers brushed a pert nub on the way to the hem of his pajamas. Yixing licked deeper into his mouth, swallowing every sound, every vibration Junmyeon made, and drew down the last layers between them.

They stumble onto the bed, limbs tangling and lips bruising. The younger on top pushed Junmyeon’s thighs farther apart, eliciting another guttural moan from the other with a searing grind.

It’s been too long since he was touched like this. He never complained, knowing what he was sacrificing it for. But right now Junmyeon wants, he fucking wanted this, he wanted the man burning him with every breath, touch, and taste.

Yixing licked a stripe on his throat, biting a collarbone, and smirking with a pink nipple between his teeth while he held Junmyeon’s hips still from arching. He painted the other’s skin with soft kisses, hands stroking fair curves before devouring him.

With mouth slack and puffs of breaths, Junmyeon draped an arm over his eyes closed tight. He couldn’t stop the groan from his lips at a hard suck, stomach twisting in pleasure. But no matter how much he bit his swollen lips, Yixing’s fingers slicking him up from down below, pushing in and out to loosen him up were too good.

Yixing came back up to take Junmyeon’s lips before slipping between his thighs. He let Junmyeon hold onto his hand and scratch the expanse on his back until he was deep enough, following his rhythm, pushing and claiming and taking.

Junmyeon’s pleas spurred on the man on top of him, thrusting harder, faster, and more desperately as they cling to one another. He clawed Yixing’s back, sweat slipping with his fingertips until he reached the nape of his neck, hand combing through his hair and whispering “I know, I know,” to Yixing’s confessions and calls of his name.

And they didn’t stop for as long as their bodies let them, switching as they please, pace as slow or as fast as they desired, holding every curve and edge in every which way they can, forgetting the time running away from them.

But of course they have their limits. The black sky was turning indigo once again, the twinkling of lights disappearing one by one.

Junmyeon smiled, eyes closed and drowsy, as Yixing’s fingers stroked his skin from under him, starting from the beginning of his spine to the small of his back. “We have to sleep or else you’ll miss your flight.”

Yixing hummed, cheek nestling Junmyeon’s soft hair. “I can sleep on the plane. You sleep so you don’t forget any of your lines later.”

In truth, neither wanted to, refusing to wake up only to let go of the one they love.

But they’re only human. Rest took over both men to heal them where they needed it. And even in their sleep, they only moved closer to the one another, hearts in sync.

 

*

 

Kris was waiting for them in front of Junmyeon’s apartment building, cab running with Yixing’s things stuffed in the trunk. He smiled at his friends, quickly hiding his own sadness at their joined hands because today wasn’t going to be easy.

He kept chatting with the cabbie to give the two in the back their last few moments of privacy.

Yixing was asleep on Junmyeon’s shoulder, the older smiling softly down at his peaceful face and grinning wider when his tender lips on calloused knuckles made the other whimper and lean closer.

At the airport, they quietly lifted Yixing’s baggage as the oldest listed off everything the youngest needed, double-checking passport, ticket, other papers, food, and money. He knew his young brother is more than capable of looking out for himself, only wanting to do whatever he can for him before he leaves.

Junmyeon’s breath hitched when he saw the sign to Yixing’s boarding gate, clutching the younger’s hand tighter. They were cutting it close with his departure time, so when they reach the right entrance, they only had very few minutes left.

He supposed it was a good thing, seeing as he never was a fan of long goodbyes.

He only let go of Yixing’s hand to let him and Kris share a hug, even smiling when Kris contorted his face so horridly to stop from shedding even a single tear. Mr. Cool Guy Lawyer until the very end.

They bid their farewells, telling them both that he’ll wait outside for Junmyeon to take him home. Yixing could only hug his brother tighter for his efforts until now.

Left alone, Junmyeon smiled at Yixing, not wanting to be remembered as anything other than happy. They held each other as tightly as they did just several hours ago, refusing to let their longing get the better of them.

Yixing took in the scent of spring and the man in his arms. “ _The most beautiful sound in the world…_ Myeon-ah.” And he knew Junmyeon would laugh at that, even expecting the playful hits that followed. He just didn’t want to be the reason Junmyeon cries. “Junmyeon-ah.”

The older held onto the younger’s coat, held onto every last second they have left, and held onto what he really wanted to say.

_Don’t go._

And those words stayed in his chest, never leaving.

Junmyeon kissed Yixing, memorizing everything about him. “Don’t forget me.”

 

*

 

From the floor, Junmyeon took the offered hand to stand back up again, rising from his character’s death.

He thanked his colleague and bowed to his leading lady as the grand curtains slowly rose from the stage to reveal a theatre full of spectators on their feet, with cheers and applause echoing in every corner.

Junmyeon bowed down together with the rest of the cast, back bent perfectly, never forgetting where he came from.

His name was proudly introduced to new faces, and he smiled as roses were thrown at his feet. His heart leaped when he saw his mom on the third row, face full of pride and eyes glimmering with tears of joy.

He showed his best image to the audience and coworkers as he and the actress for Maria were called upfront once again for a few more moments in the spotlight. They’ve earned it.

He bent down one last time, thankful that his leading lady held his hand to keep him steady.

When he looked back up, everything went still. The spotlight was blinding and the entire place has gone quiet. He chuckled softly as he saw Yixing sitting alone on the first row, face full of love.

But the image quickly faded as the curtains started to lower, the theatre’s noise filling him once again.

Backstage, he’s been embraced more times tonight than his entire seven years of stay in New York. Kyungsoo praised him as well, saying how truly glad he was to play his best friend.

He barely caught his breath when familiar arms drowned him, and he laughed into his mother’s hold, careful not to crush the bouquet she bought. He missed her dearly.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how proud I am of you.” She cried into his chest, all the pain and tears they’ve shared leading to her son’s shining moment. “My Peter Pan is all grown up.”

“ _Mom,”_ he whined, patting her back gently. He was exhausted and crying even more would leave him spent. He needed to save what little energy he has now for the next show tomorrow.

His mother pulled away, wiping her eyes a last time before smiling softly to her youngest. She fixed the few creases made on the bouquet’s wrapping before offering it to her son. “For you.”

Junmyeon shook his head, amused. His mother should have saved her money to spend on other things before she flies back to Seoul. But the beautiful array of flowers in blue and purple did warm his heart, and they smelled so nice and gentle. “You really shouldn’t have. But thanks, mom.”

He felt a hand on his arm, making him look back to her. She pulled out a small card from the stems and turned it over.

_To JM. ZYX._

It was his handwriting. Even when he was gone, the man still refused to listen. He smelled the flowers one more time, the air and perfume giving him life. “I love it.”

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” His mom held him tighter. “Forget-me-nots.”

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Junmyeon sipped his cup of coffee, enjoying one of his rare days off. A few steps behind, his friends stopped to take pictures. Baekhyun excitedly got Kyungsoo’s attention, asking him to take his pictures next instead of just the scenery or random animals on the street.

The lot of them have their own productions in London and decided to catch a quick train to Paris. Junmyeon was hesitant at first, but seeing how packed his schedule normally was, it made sense to explore another city when he can.

One sip of French coffee and he fell in love instantly. Kyungsoo too, but Baekhyun always had a sweet tooth and preferred to stick to lattes and macarons. Though right now, he chuckled seeing Kyungsoo take pictures of Baekhyun trying to pick up the Eiffel Tower with his fingers.

A small crowd at one of the blocks caught his eye and he moved away from the other two, knowing they’ll be okay.

Several people had their phones up as a production crew was recording. How exciting! Junmyeon personally had a few French film favorites. He drank the last drop of his drink before throwing it away and walked to the small set.

He watched in awe as cameramen moved and dancers stepped in front of their lenses. Without noticing, he felt his foot tapping to the music.

But once a familiar face came into his line of sight, Junmyeon went stock still. His ears caught on next, recalling the familiar tune even with the additional layers of sounds.

Yixing moved in-sync with one of the dancers, an easy smile on his handsome face as he moved across the block, passing by a ring store. Junmyeon remembered it being the one he wrote for his grandparents.

He noticed too late that the team stopped filming a few minutes later, done for the day.

Quickly hiding behind the people in front of him, Junmyeon silently thanked the giant blocking his view. But maybe life has been too kind to him these past couple of years because the tall man turned around, seemingly spotting something more interesting, and took off.

Junmyeon looked around helplessly, trying to look for someplace else to hide to no avail. Yixing was already walking towards him, a huge grin on his face, dimple and everything.

“Well if isn’t the multi-awarded son of Seoul.” He was tilting back and forth with the soles of his feet, hands on his back. “I didn’t know you’d be in the city.”

Is it pathetic to already swoon over that? Ah. The man still gave him butterflies.

The older one chuckled, shrugging. “Just here for the day with some friends. Have to be back in London tomorrow for a show.”

At this, Yixing looked elated, quickly searching for something in his pockets. “Yeah! Yeah, I have a ticket for that! _La La Land The Musical_ , right?” He opened his wallet for the ticket, trying to gently pull it out.

Junmyeon patiently waited but he couldn’t help but notice a small newspaper clipping where a photo should be. He could only see the headline, but he knew instantly what it was.

He’ll always remember the very first article written about him. _Shooting Star from Seoul Shines in Broadway’s West Side Story_.

And right then and there, he wanted to grab the man and catch his lips.

Yixing showed him his ticket, and Junmyeon memorized the exact row and number for tomorrow night, thinking if he can give some sort of signal to the man without breaking character. Yixing squeezed his arm before he put away the ticket along with his wallet. “I was thinking of surprising you tomorrow, but I guess that’s not happening. You never liked surprises anyway.”

Junmyeon just nodded, not knowing what else to say.

“My team and I are gonna hit London for a few days since we’re finished here. And I’m so glad one of my music producers got me a ticket to your show because it was tough. I mean, the guy is watching something else but,” Yixing looked thoughtful, trying to find his producer. He saw him two blocks away, fawning over a small man and his wide-eyed friend. “Oh geez, there he is.”

Junmyeon turned around and saw Baekhyun with ears pink trying to give an autograph to the tall man that he used as a human shield a few minutes ago. “Baekhyun?”

“Yeah!” Yixing laughed, shaking his head. “That’s my producer and friend, Chanyeol. Bonded over our love for musicals. He’s really into your friend.”

The two of them laughed as Baekhyun turned into a deeper shade of crimson as Chanyeol rambled on, arms enthusiastically waving and trying to copy what looked like choreography from one of the younger’s plays. Kyungsoo looked on in utter disbelief but also enjoying his friend’s embarrassment.

Junmyeon nodded towards them, inviting Yixing along.

They talked about meeting up after the show tomorrow and how the other has been since they last saw each other. Junmyeon kept Yixing’s albums on his shelf along with his trophies and Yixing has framed several articles praising Junmyeon through the years in his home.

The actor nudged Yixing’s shoulder, grinning. “So I saw your latest speech online. You almost didn’t mention me.”

And there was that laugh he missed, heating his skin.

Yixing gently pulled the other’s hand in his, smiling as they walked. “I didn’t expect to win so I had no speech prepared!”

When they reached their friends, Chanyeol looked scandalized at the two and their joined fingers. He quickly glanced at Baekhyun before frowning back at them. “No fair!”

They took their little group to a restaurant that Kyungsoo have always wanted to visit, all smiles and happy chatter.

Well almost everyone with Chanyeol slightly pouting whenever Kyungsoo got a little too close to Baekhyun. He was only helping Baekhyun read the menu, but the heart wants what it wants and jealous eyes see what they want to see.

Junmyeon chuckled and pulled on the giant’s shoulder, “Bring pastel flowers tomorrow night. And tell him what a great dancer he is. People usually just focus on his looks and vocals, so comment on his moves if you want him to notice you.”

Chanyeol nodded eagerly, pulling out his phone to take notes.

“What’s that about?” Yixing whispered, thumb tracing patterns on his hand.

Junmyeon just smiled, staring into Yixing’s eyes. “Just told him how theatre actors love flowers.”

 

 

***

**Author's Note:**

> **[1001 Tales' mods: Don't forget to leave kudos and comments for the writer!]**
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> All credits of this story goes to the original author: **baekdsooshi** https://www.asianfanfics.com/profile/view/1559050


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